Intentions

I never intended to melt

To fill the mold I was instructed to fill

I never intended to fade

To break away pieces of myself

To squeeze between the cracks

To suck the moisture from the pavement

The subtle memories of the suffering I endured to be here today.

 

I never intended to let the insults become fabric sewn to the sutures of my skin.

I never intended to let sticks and stones break my bones but some words break more than you can fix.

I watched myself get lost in despair

Eating anything to fill the emptiness

And eating nothing to become the emptiness.

 

Now I am nearly 24

My kidneys build stones for anything to hold onto.

My liver begs me for mercy

From the pills I took

Both to survive or the alternative

And drinking is a bittersweet arrangement

Sucking away at my health

And my bank account

And anything else I will give it.

But she helps me forget who I am

If only for a moment

Shows me how it feels to have friends again

To feel less alone.

 

I know that inevitably I am dying

But aren’t we all?

You can not blame me for accelerating the process

You see my mother always taught me if you’re not early then you’re late.

And being late was never an option

 

I never intended to be this alone

To be this insecure at 23

This ashamed of my own body

No matter how much I tell myself otherwise.

I don’t want to fall apart to satisfy the voices calling.

I don’t want to squeeze my bones dry

I just want to exist

And be loved

And be able to accept that some things are better left untouched.

It is hard not to believe what you’re told

that my worth is only based on whether I am deemed fuckable

Whether this stomach is flat enough to satisfy the men and women who prey on the minds of those like mine

 

Let the tear drops fall, but do not catch them

You cannot count the calories in your tear drops.

You cannot count the stars in the sky

Or the sand on the beaches

Instead count the breaths you take til you stop crying.

Count the steps it takes to get to your mirror.

You are not perfect

I am sorry

You will never be perfect

But you don’t have to be

Perfect is a pretty picture on plastic cups

Poems are never meant to be perfect

And you my love are a poem they will never stop reading.

You weren’t made bite-sized for a reason

Let them chew on your memory forever

And don’t let them swallow it.

Some poems are too powerful to swallow

You are everything it took to survive

Every scar and smile and uneven line in that mirror.

Write your poem

And let them choke on it.

This poem is about: 
Me

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